But man is a part of nature, and his war against nature is inevitably a war against himself.— Rachel Carson
Staggering Silent Spring quotations
One way to open your eyes is to ask yourself, "What if I had never seen this before? What if I knew i would never see it again?
Why would anyone believe it is possible to lay down such barrage of poisons on the surface of the earth without making it unfit for all life? They should not be called insecticides, but biocides.
It is a wholesome and necessary thing for us to turn again to the earth and in the contemplation of her beauties to know the sense of wonder and humility.
I don't fear death; I fear remaining silent in the face of injustice. I am young and I want to live. But I say to those that would eliminate my voice: I am ready, wherever and whenever you might strike. You can cut down the flower, but nothing can stop the coming of the spring.
In the depths of your hopes and desires, lies your silent knowledge of the beyond, and like seeds dreaming beneath the snow, your heart dreams of spring. Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.
If there is poetry in my book about the sea, it is not because I deliberately put it there, but because no one could write truthfully about the sea and leave out the poetry.
A Who's Who of pesticides is therefore of concern to us all.
If we are going to live so intimately with these chemicals eating and drinking them, taking them into the very marrow of our bones - we had better know something about their nature and their power.
The 'control of nature' is a phrase conceived in arrogance, born of the Neanderthal age of biology and philosophy, when it was supposed that nature exists for the convenience of man.
We urgently need an end to these false assurances, to the sugar coating of unpalatable facts. It is the public that is being asked to assume the risks that the insect controllers calculate. The public must decide whether it wishes to continue on the present road, and it can do so only when in full possession of the facts.
A child's world is fresh and new and beautiful, full of wonder and excitement.
The road we have long been traveling is deceptively easy, a smooth superhighway on which we progress with great speed, but at its end lies disaster.
It is not half so important to know as to feel.
As crude a weapon as a cave man's club, the chemical barrage has been hurled against the fabric of life.
The holy spirit of the Spring Is working silently.
It is also an era dominated by industry, in which the right to make a dollar at whatever cost is seldom challenged.
The question is whether any civilization can wage relentless war on life without destroying itself, and without losing the right to be called civilized.
Thine eyes are springs in whose serene And silent waters heaven is seen.
Their lashes are the herbs that look On their young figures in the brook.
The control of nature is a phrase conceived in arrogance.
The obligation to endure gives us the right to know.
Over increasingly large areas of the United States, spring now comes unheralded by the return of the birds, and the early mornings are strangely silent where once they were filled with the beauty of bird song.
For the sense of smell, almost more than any other, has the power to recall memories and it's a pity we use it so little.
How could intelligent beings seek to control a few unwanted species by a method that contaminated the entire environment and brought the threat of disease and death even to their own kind?
The aim of science is to discover and illuminate truth.
And that, I take it, is the aim of literature, whether biography or history or fiction. It seems to me, then, that there can be no separate literature of science.
Nature has introduced great variety into the landscape, but man has displayed a passion for simplifying it. Thus he undoes the built-in checks and balances by which nature holds the species within bounds.
This is an era of specialists, each of whom sees his own problem and is unaware of or intolerant of the larger frame into which it fits.
The 'control of nature' is a phrase conceived in arrogance, .
. . when it was supposed that nature exists for the convenience of man . . . . It is our alarming misfortune that so primitive a science has armed itself with the most modern and terrible weapons, and that in turning them against the insects it has also turned them against the earth.
The cuckoos remain silent for a long time (for several seasons) until they are able to sing sweetly (in the Spring) so as to give joy to all.
All the wild sweetness of the flower Tangled against the wall.
It was that magic, silent hour.... The branches grew so tall They twined themselves into a bower. The sun shown ... and the fall Of yellow blossom on the grass! You feel that golden rain? Both of you could not hold, alas, (both of you tried, in vain) A memory, stranger. So I pass.... It will not come again.
A hush is over everything, Silent as women wait for love; The world is waiting for the spring.
Let yourself be silently drawn by the stronger pull of what you really love.
In the depths there is a spring with all the water your heart is thirsty for.
Real glory springs from the silent conquest of ourselves.
To begin at the beginning: It is spring, moonless night in the small town, starless and bible-black, the cobblestreets silent and the hunched courters'-and-rabbits' wood limping invisible down to the sloeblack, slow, black, crowblack, fishingboat-bobbing sea.
Deceive not thyself by over-expecting happiness in the married estate.
Remember the nightingales which sing only some months in the spring, but commonly are silent when they have hatched their eggs, as if their mirth were turned into care for their young ones.